


The Beardsley Baby

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [3]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 5: The Fiery Cross, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-27 14:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6288976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine Claire and Jamie kept the mulatto little girl</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beardsley Baby

The cold remained fierce as Jamie and Claire made their way back to the Ridge so Claire insisted Jamie be the one to carry the baby wrapped closely to his body.

“You’re a furnace,” she told him as she settled the quiet infant into the sling they’d fashioned before helping Jamie on with his shirt. “You can afford to share some of that heat with her.”

It had been an awkward few days spent in the company of the Browns. After the news arrived that the militia had been called to stand down, Jamie sent Roger and Fergus on ahead along with the men, there being no need for the rest of them to hang around and all eager to be warm at home as quickly as possible. But Jamie had to settle the Morton affair as best he could—he hadn’t mentioned that he and Claire were considering adopting the Beardsley baby because at the time, they’d been undecided. But the more time they spent in the company of the Browns, the less confidence they had in her being treated as anything more than a means to control her Beardsley inheritance. Claire’s concerns over how she might be treated as she grew older and her mixed parentage became clearer decided them once and for all—but negotiating a custody arrangement was a delicate process.

In the end, the Browns’ desire for control of the trading post worked to their advantage. Jamie pointed out the fact that even if he and Claire took the child in, their place on the Ridge was an inconvenient distance for managing the Beardsley post. He wouldn’t sell the babe’s inheritance outright, but would hire or lease the property to the Browns so they could manage it by proxy, sending along a share of the profits, of course—Hiram and his harem were sold outright, it being impractical to attempt transporting the lot of them to the Ridge in such weather. They kept just one goat that was still giving milk in order to feed the child on their journey back.

“I think she’s come loose from her swaddling,” Jamie complained as he adjusted the child’s positioning against his abdomen. “She’s squirming like a worm on a hook.”

Claire laughed as she gathered the last of their things and set his cloak about his shoulders for him. “You know how you said I looked when I carried Faith when I had her tucked into my shift? It’s quite a bit like how it feels to carry a child too.” She reached down and rubbed her hand against the small bulge at the front of Jamie’s shirt. “She should drift off to sleep soon—they do that in the womb too—then she’ll just be a little extra weight and warmth till she rouses looking to eat again.”

“Or needs a change,” Jamie muttered, but when Claire removed her hand from the swell of the child, he replaced it with his own. With the heat of his palm on one side and the heat of his bare torso on the other, the child quickly settled down to sleep. “I see what ye mean about the weight,” he remarked as he eased his way to his feet without waking her.

It took some awkward maneuvering to get into the saddle but Jamie managed. Claire was soon atop her mount as well with a line leading down to the goat—traveling in winter might prove an asset where the goat was concerned as there was little vegetation along the roadside to distract it. They couldn’t run the horses but they expected to make decent progress with just the two of them—well, the _three_ of them.

It was cold and crisp but also clear, no freezing wind and no precipitation to slow them down. They had plenty to discuss as they rode for home.

“What d’ye think Brianna and Roger Mac will make of the lass?”

“I expect they’ll understand why we chose to take her in,” Claire said a little defensively, her protective, mothering instincts already beginning to rouse at the thought of anyone criticizing their decision to raise the abandoned babe themselves. Jamie snorted quietly with amusement and Claire softened again. “Actually… Brianna did mention wanting a brother or sister once or twice when she was younger.”

“And you and Frank…” Jamie began tentatively, knowing he was treading dangerous ground. “The two of ye never considered… I mean… Ye _were_ husband and wife.”

There was a pause before Claire answered. “We never discussed it, no. Later… that is… before Frank died, he confessed that he’d learned he _couldn’t_ father a child himself—there are ways then— _will_ be ways—to medically determine that sort of thing. But for me…” she trailed off uncomfortably.

“The pills ye mentioned,” he said, filling in the blanks.

“Yes,” she said simply though she had employed a variety of methods prior to the pill’s invention—she didn’t want to prolong the conversation by getting into the various options. They lapsed into silence, waiting for the specter of Frank to dissipate in the cold winter air.

It didn’t take long for the baby reassert her presence, making it clear she needed to be fed and changed.

Locating a sheltering copse of firs, Jamie and Claire tethered the horses and dismounted, pulling the goat along to tend to their new child’s needs. There was little need for speaking between them to coordinate their efforts. Most of what they said was directed at the child in reassurance and comfort. The milk from the goat was warm and soothing as she suckled a cloth—the best they’d be able to manage until returning to the Ridge where they could arrange a wet nurse or Claire could enlist Brianna to help fashion a more suitable bottle. Jamie balanced the baby in his lap while Claire took care of procuring more milk as necessary. He used the edge of his kilt to wipe at milk that dribbled down her chin.

Watching him with the baby put a smile on Claire’s face and brought a warmth to her chest that the cool winter air couldn’t touch. It was different and yet similar to what she felt when she watched him with Jem—he took so much pride and pleasure from every moment he had with their grandson. But while Jem was of his blood, he belonged to Brianna and Roger. This lass might not be of their blood, but she belonged to them now. As exhausting as the prospect of starting at the beginning again with a newborn was—especially at their age—there was a part of her that thrilled at the prospect of sharing it with Jamie; it was something they both had wanted so desperately in those early years of their marriage and had both accepted as lost to them. The unexpected appearance of Brianna—and Roger and the birth of Jem—had given some of it back to them. And now with this abandoned child they were being given a chance to take back a bit more of what they’d thought lost.

“She’s going to need a name,” Claire remarked as she raised the child to her shoulder to burp her before swaddling her once more.

“Aye,” Jamie said, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. “D’ye have any preference? I would suggest naming her for her mam but it doesna seem right given the circumstances.”

Claire snorted her agreement—naming the child after the woman who’d abandoned her to chance and the cold would be next to cruel. Turning her head awkwardly to try and examine the babe’s face, get a feel for her personality. “I don’t know.” The echoes of Faith were strong and called to mind names in a similar vein—Grace, Hope, Prudence. She frowned. “I don’t want to saddle her with a name that comes with too much baggage or expectations.”

“Expectations?” Jamie asked as he reached to take the now slumbering baby from Claire and settle her back into the carrying sling.

“Naming her for one of the virtues or after a specific saint or something,” Claire explained.

“Ah, aye. I ken what ye mean,” he agreed, rising and rocking the sleeping child as Claire bustled about gathering their things to resume the journey. Jamie’s brow furrowed in a familiar way.

“What is it?” Claire asked. “Something’s given you an idea.” She unfastened the reins of Jamie’s horse from the tree it was tethered to and led the beast over to where Jamie could mount it with relative ease.

“It’s just… Brianna’s named for both my parents,” he pointed out. “What was yer mother’s name, Sassenach? I recall ye telling me yer father was Henry but I dinna think ye ever told me yer mam’s name.”

“Julia,” Claire answered warmly.

“Julia,” Jamie repeated, glancing down at the bundle tucked against his chest. “What d’ye think of calling her for yer mam, then?”

Claire moved her horse closer to Jamie’s, inadvertently pulling the goat along its line and causing it to bleat in protest. She peered down at the infant’s peaceful face—nearly a week old now, her features were beginning to settle and no longer appeared squashed. Her coloring was evening out too though she was still pale. The bit of hair on her head was clearly dark.

“Julia what, though? Just Fraser?”

“Beardsley,” he said with quiet certainty. “We’ll have to tell her to truth of things someday and ye ken half the folk on the Ridge will likely call her Beardsley anyway.”

“Julia Beardsley Fraser, then?” Claire looked to Jamie for his agreement.

“Aye. I think she’ll wear it well,” he declared, tugging the edge of her swaddling up to shield her face before prodding his horse to resume their journey—it would still be a day or two before they reached the Ridge what with the regular need to stop and feed little Julia—but the lingering reservations they had about taking her had faded now that she was definitively theirs.


End file.
